Numbers
by LeafyDream
Summary: Twenty-four years separated them. Twenty years of friendship strengthen them. Three years since they last spoke haunted them. One night will define Wilhelm Reinhardt and Angela 'Mercy' Ziegler forever. Updated every Thursday. On a brief hiatus.
1. Two Cups

**Two Mugs**

 _I never thought I'd come back here._

The moon hung above Watchpoint: Gibraltar like a spotlight over a stage. It illuminated the base and gave it an air of melancholy and mysticism. Yet the inside of the base was one of the happiest sights Angela 'Mercy' Ziegler had ever seen. Overwatch was reunited again, or at least, a small fraction of their agents were. It was practically a reunion inside, and even on the bridge that Angela stood on, she could hear the voices inside.

Angela could still hear Tracer and McCree exchanging stories. Torbjörn and Winston were trading their latest plans and inventions. They had even gotten word that Mei was on her way to join them. The young doctor couldn't even remember her last conversation with the fellow scientist. It had been so long since she had gone missing...

Their little, strange family was being put back together again, piece by piece.

 _Jack would have liked this. He and Ana..._ Angela stared at the full moon above her head, admiring it and the twinkling stars that danced beside it. Despite all of this, she couldn't feel what her family did. Her heart ached, and her throat felt clogged. Her skin felt clammy and her eyes couldn't meet any of her colleagues' gaze.

She was supposed to be happy, wasn't she? Wasn't she supposed to be overjoyed at the return of Overwatch? Her family, the world's greatest peacekeeping organization, the chance to make everything right was at her fingertips...

So why couldn't she bring herself to smile?

 _What is wrong with me?_ she wondered, walking along the edge of the bridge. The faint light of the reunion was a near invisible fade on the ground now. Every step took her farther and farther from it as the night's gentle breeze stroked her body.

Tracer, McCree, and Torbjörn had all witnessed the corruption and fall of Overwatch. They had been there when the mighty organization crumbled from within, like a tree infested with termites. Yet here they were, ready and willing to bring the organization back.

 _Not her._

 _Not the famed 'Mercy.'_

 _No, she decided to stand outside in the cold and feel sorry for herself._ Angela let out a loud groan, burying her face in her hands as she cursed at herself. "What is wrong with me?!" she huffed.

"Well, you are standing out here alone, Angela, when you should be in the company of friends. Then again, I am no doctor."

"Will?" Angela came to a stop, and she felt the cold wind grow all the colder.

"Hello, Angela." She turned to face him, and there he was. The man did not wear his famed armor, unlike herself. She was dressed in her Valkyrie suit, as if she was about to be sent on a mission. As if she was walking into the maws of hell itself. He stood there with a gentle smile on his lips, his figure outlined by the lights behind him. Angela didn't need to see his face to know it was him.

She heard it in the way he approached her, with calm, heavy steps.

She saw it in his smile, and the way they shimmered with pride and admiration.

She smelled it in the air, the sweet smell of chocolate flooding from the large thermos in his hand. There were two small mugs hanging off of the fingers of his other hand.

"I hope you still like-"

"Hot chocolate." She felt her own lips curl into a smile, and she nodded her head as she brushed a lock of hair from her eye. "Your own special blend?"

"Indeed. Brigitte has been adamant about cutting back on my drinking. It isn't as good as your blend, but I make due." He offered her a cup and her eyes fell on it.

Memories and thoughts flowed through Angela's mind like a raging storm. Regrets, unspoken words, and nostalgia. A sour cocktail that she swallowed down as she took a cup from his warm hand.

"It is good to see you again," he confessed.

"Same. It's good to see you, too, Wilhelm."

Neither said anything as he filled their cups. He quietly hooked the thermos onto his pants, before the two gently clinked their mugs together. Angela tasted the sweet, hazel-colored nectar only after enjoying the sweet aroma. She breathed it in, admiring the perfect blend as its warmth flowed through her body. She tasted it, only a sip, and her clammy skin finally released her sealed tension.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He nodded his head, but uttered nothing in response. First he took in the sensational aroma of his own cup, before sipping at it with poise and grace. Angela knew he was trying not to embarrass himself in front of her. It was always quite a sight to see Wilhelm's mustache catch all of his food, or watch him slurp down his drinks in the past. She had always teased him how he was a child in a grown man's body.

"Would you like to walk with me? It feels as though I have not been here in ages," Wilhelm admitted.

"I haven't been here in years either, you know?" She chuckled at his casual shrug, motioning her to follow him with his free hand.

"We'll learn it again together then! Just like old times." He stood in front of her, body faced down the dark, empty bridge as his face turned to hers with a smile. "What say you, Angela?"

She stood behind him, contemplating his plan. Her eyes fell to his empty hand, watching him offer it to her like it was another cup. She felt her own hand rise up without thought, gently falling into his own palm. His fingers never had the chance to close around hers, because she walked forward and her hand fell from his like a gentle waterfall.

"I think I would love to, Will." She smiled at him, and he returned the gesture despite his empty hand.

 **END**

Facing some hardcore writer's block on other stories. Decided to try something new. Here's that something new. Reinhardt and Mercy is a couple I always liked, despite how no one else seems to. Helps that me and my girlfriend's favorite characters are Reinhardt and Mercy respectively. No, I don't care about the age gap. It just makes the love story more interesting.

This story will be like two stories in one, with focus on the many years Reinhardt and Mercy have shared together, as well as focusing on this one night in the present.

Quick warning, following through with canon material is not my goal here. I want to forge a new history between the two characters, rather than try to slip a story that could have happened between two events. I'll try not to stomp all over continuity, but I'm only human and a lot of Overwatch's story is left out of the game.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, and I hope you stick around for the next one. Leave a review, if you can. I always appreciate them, and have a great day!


	2. Twelve Years Old

**Twelve Years Old**

Angela Ziegler was twelve when she lost her parents. Her father had been trying to get his daughter and mother safe transport out of their hometown, but he had been caught in a carpet bombing of the entire eastern side of the city. She never saw her father again after he walked out their front door. Her last words to him were asking what he wanted for dinner.

She couldn't even remember what they had that night.

It was just Angela and her mother for the next two years. They moved from town to town, trying to escape the flood of machines that was destroying Switzerland. Angela could still see the snow-tipped mountains of her home, and the luscious, emerald forests and plains that her country was blessed with. The Omnics reduced mountains to pebbles and fields of grass, trees, and flowers to ashes and stone.

It didn't take long for Angela to see the other nations' attempts to help Switzerland. Entire cities were wiped out, and fields of farmland reduced to the same field of ashes the Omnics created. Her mother died because the United Nations sent men and women who were too scared and too young to win this war. They shouldn't have even been allowed to hold a gun.

Angela could still hear her mother's voice. Still feel her mother's hands on her own, before her mother had pushed young Angela towards the soldiers. The rest of the town screamed and roared in fury and outrage as the soldiers transported barely a hundred citizens out of the doomed city of Lucerne, a number that paled in comparison to the promised thousands.

The coffee kicked in as soon as it touched her tongue, kicking her out of her memories and back into the present day. Fifteen years old, addicted to caffeine, but as stable as one could be in the world she lived in. Her tongue burned from both the heat and the bitter taste, but it did its job in waking her. She needed to be awake.

She couldn't waste her time sleeping at the hospital she volunteered at, though calling it a hospital felt ill-fitting. It was more like a few tents next to each other with a concerned group of doctors and volunteers running themselves ragged inside. She sat inside one of the tents, using the table to rest her drink as she sighed to herself.

Angela wiped her lips of the foul, bitter concoction as her fellow nurses helped move the patient to another tent. The patient had been a poor woman caught by the blast of a dirty bomb made by the locals. She had been badly scorched, and Angela knew she would not be able to use her left arm again, but she was alive. She'd live to see her father, who had been waiting outside for what felt like hours for the chance to see his 'baby girl' again.

Angela had no idea who made the bomb, but she could guess. They weren't trained soldiers. They weren't demolition experts. They were just people desperate to make a difference. But they had been stupid, and their stupidity nearly cost a woman her life. A father nearly lost his daughter because of their desperation and anger.

"Thank you for the help, Angela. Why don't you get some rest now?" The head doctor suggested, placing a gentle hand on Angela's wrist. She could easily bring the rest of the foul drink to her lip, but it was clear the older man did not want her to.

"No. No, I'm fine. Please, how can I help?" Angela lifted up the corners of her lips, and she tried not to let her fatigue show in her eyes.

"Angela-"

"Doctor Risch." Angela rose up from her seat and stood on shaking legs. She steeled them, taking a slow breath inward before speaking again. "I wish to help."

"Angela, you've already done more work than any other nurse here. You're practically doing the work of ten nurses!" The doctor's aged, withered features could not hide the concern in his grey eyes.

"Well, that's rather appropriate considering we have twice the patients we could handle even with a full staff." Angela glanced at a clipboard on the table beside her, sitting right in front of her senior. "Here, why don't I go through our supplies while you get ready for your next patient?" She didn't wait for an answer, and her younger physique allowed her to easily outpace the doctor. "I'll see you later, Dr. Risch."

The city was no different than how she had last seen it. The buildings around her still stood, but it would take only a glance to the clear, blue sky to remind herself of where she was. Plumes of smoke rose to heavens like black towers, stretching higher and higher up as the Omnics waged their war with humanity. The sounds of gunfire were faint, distant, but how long would that last?

Angela had seen it before. A moment of respite. A moment of hesitation as the Omnics adjusted their plans and countered whatever offensive humanity had mustered up against them. They never retreated. They never left. They only stopped to sharpen their knives. The longest she had ever seen it take was four weeks. Four weeks Angela had worked at a hospital, even if all she could do was clean the tools a surgeon used or ensure patients didn't tear out their own stitches.

Four weeks of peace, until the Omnics overran the city and bathed it in fire and blood.

 _A busy worker keeps a busy mind,_ she muttered to herself. She plucked her pen from the bun in her hair and she gently tapped it against the paper. She tore her eyes from the sky and mumbled what she read as she walked to one of the neighboring tents.

She soon came to a stop as she realized one of her fellow volunteers was standing in front of her. Actually, several volunteers had their backs to the young woman, staring at something in front of them.

"What's going on?" she inquired, trying to separate two of them so she could step between them.

"A soldier is coming," a male nurse answered.

"They're definitely not Swiss," an older woman explained. "Look at that armor!"

"Who are they?" another inquired, a bandage tightly wrapped around their head to cover their lost eye.

"I've heard about them," the first man announced. "I think he's a Crusader. They're stationed in Germany, but one traveling out of the country isn't unheard of... What do you think they want?"

"Probably medical attention. Probably almost got killed trying to fight the Omnics..."

"If you have time to play guessing games, you have time to get our supplies ready," Angela scolded the others. Normally such a young woman scolding three older members of the staff would have been seen as odd, but each nurse knew that Angela was their senior in experience. They nodded their heads and separated from one another Angela watched the approaching figure.

There was one man. Just one, but it was easy to mistake him for a machine. He was clad, head to toe in metal armor. The armor was a faded silver, almost beige, with a striking, blue glow to the visor. Immediately, Angela felt a distrust towards the tank on two legs, not helped by the sight of his large, grey mace resting in his hand. He was a warrior in the purest sense of the word. A weapon in body, with a weapon in hand.

Angela could feel her mind deciphering the core of this soldier. Words popped into her mind for him. _Berserker. Behemoth. Neanderthal. Killer._ She shook her head. Whatever his crimes, whatever his mistakes, it was her responsibility to make sure he lived. She was aware of her own assumptions, aware of how they might have made her have preconceived opinions of others.

Then again, as sad as it was to say, sometimes a book could be judged by its cover.

Angela met the 'Crusader' halfway. She steadied herself as her cerulean eyes stared into his blue visor. At this close range, she realized just how tall this man was. He towered over her, no doubt an intimidation tactic to help keep the populace impressed. She did not allow him to see either emotion in her eyes.

"May I help you?" Her eyes glanced to his feet, before rising up again. "Where are you injured, sir?"

"Oh, I do not require medical attention," he explained. "I am merely here to deliver supplies, courtesy of the Crusaders."

"Just... you?" _What kind of army sends only a single scout ahead?_

"Our numbers are few here. Most of the Crusaders are helping on the frontlines with the UN and Swiss troops. Besides-" The mammoth of a man gently knocked his knuckles against his metallic chest. "I was more than enough! It will take more than a few Omnics to stop justice!"

Angela's brow rose at the giant man's words, but she brushed them aside with a sigh. "Right... Well, whatever you have can be taken inside. I'm doing a supply check, so I suppose I can take you to where we keep everything after it has been properly scanned..."

"Excellent! Lead the way, my friend!" Angela glanced at the man's shoulder, catching the corner of a large, metal box that clung to his armor. She motioned the man to follow him as she approached a pair of soldiers already on their way to the two. "Gentlemen, this... man has supplies for us."

The two soldiers nodded, and began to follow procedure. One took out a small, handheld device and began to walk to the Crusader's back. The ironclad man gently dropped the steel crate to the ground, before entering a code into a small keypad. The crate opened, revealing several more boxes inside, smaller ones made of cardboard and neatly stacked atop of one another.

"Food, weapons, and the cutting edge of German science! All for you, my friends!"

"Lieutenant Wilhelm Reinhardt... Yep, looks like everything checks out. This is gonna do a lot of good, Lieutenant," one of the soldiers grinned.

"May I see that?" Angela nodded her thanks to the soldier, before looking at the device in his hand. A small screen listed the items within the crate, and her eyes widened as she read through them. "T-this is quite a lot... Are you sure you wish to part with all of this?" Angela's stomach twisted as she asked the question. The equipment they were being given could help her and her colleagues save countless lives, but with Omnics swarming over the entire world, she wondered if anyone could be so giving?

"All this and more," the knight replied. "The Crusaders will send another next month with more supplies. Our homeland may be Germany, but we never forget our neighbors!"

"Well, thank you for your help. We appreciate the gift." Angela watched as the two men closed the metal crate and began to transport it. They tried lifting it up together for a full minute, before walking away with promises a forklift to help transport the new supplies. The man; Angela knew he had said his name, but she just couldn't remember it, stared at the young nurse as she glanced away.

Her eyes slowly returned to him and she briefly wondered what went through his mind, before a question found itself dancing on her tongue. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course. How may I help you?"

Angela bit the inside of her cheek, hesitation clear in her oceanic eyes as she pondered if she should even say anything to the Crusader. She decided to bite the bullet, and with a quiet sigh, she questioned him. "Do you have any news from the frontline? The news on the radio always tries to sugarcoat what happens. They're too scared to let the people know what's really happening out there. I want a soldier's point of view. Not children's stories..."

The masked man clearly didn't expect the question, nor how Angela's voice trembled slightly as she uttered it. The Crusader stared at her, his features hidden behind the vibrant, cyan glow of his mask as he remained silent. The taste of regret pooled in Angela's mouth like bile and she closed her eyes as she massaged her warm face.

"I'm sorry. This was stupid of me. I shouldn't pry. I just wanted to know, and I didn't want to ask any of soldiers here and..." She could taste a growing sensation of humiliation as she tried to save face. "I'm sorry. I'll leave you be. Please, feel free to have some food before you-"

"No, it is alright. You want to know the truth. I can hardly fault you for that." The Crusader reached for his helmet, and Angela's eyes watched as he unhooked and moved certain parts. The helmet was gently lifted off of his head, and for the first time since seeing him, Angela saw the man beneath the machine.

He was certainly older than her. Possibly in his thirties, or even early forties in comparison to herself. His features were strongly built, firmly sculpted into the face of a warrior. His hair was was a golden blond, like her own, but greying hairs were present in the roots. His skin was only slightly tanned, something that made her rather curious considering his body-encompassing helmet. But his tan was the last thing on her mind.

There was a bandage wrapped tightly around his head, covering his eye. There was no blood in the white, cotton material, meaning it wasn't a recent wound, but the fact that part of his head was bandaged up at all spoke volumes to the young woman. Despite his injury, he gave her only a gentle smile to stare at.

"I will not lie. The fighting is painful. I fear it gets worse with every passing day. We have been fighting side by side with the soldiers here, but even Germany is being bombarded everyday by artillery fire and blitzkriegs. As you can see, I have seen my own fair share of the violence." The man seemed to laugh, almost chuckling at some kind of joke.

"So things haven't improved," sighed Angela. "I see." She tried not to let him hear the disappointment in her voice. She was surprised there had been even a shred of doubt that the Omnics would overrun this city as well. It was only a matter of time before-

"I did not say that. I merely meant that the fighting is getting harder!" He was quick to argue with her, stepping forward towards the smaller girl. "The Crusaders are fighting side by side with the brave men and women of this country, and Northern America has promised reinforcement in the coming days. We will turn the tide."

Angela scrutinized the man with tired eyes. He sounded like the leaders of her country, but did he actually believe what he was saying? "I have heard that before. Other countries have promised us weapons, soldiers, supplies... Yet what has changed?"

"Perhaps not yet, but things will change soon. I know they will," he swore. "There is even talk of the UN putting together an elite strike force. I understand times are tough, but-"

"All things that are easier said. Where is your proof?" Angela did not mean for her voice to sound so angry, but she couldn't hide her aggression and frustration. She had seen countless bodies, and the Omnics had not even been guilty of some of the pain she had seen. Human soldiers who opened fire or bombed their own because leaders thought the loss was acceptable... "I understand military bravado is part of being a soldier, but-"

"What would you have humanity do?"

"Excuse me?"

"Fighting back is in our nature. Humanity rarely enjoy surrender. We rarely allow ourselves to be dominated, especially by an outside force."

"I'm not saying I have an answer, I just..." Angela sighed, shaking her head as she lifted a hand to massage her aching temple. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you with this."

"I understand your frustration." The man was quiet, and Angela was the same. Neither spoke for what felt like forever for the young nurse, before the man knelt down in front of her. "I'm sorry. As soldiers, it is our responsibility to defend people like you. Your doubt in those around you are embedded within you for a reason. I will not pry, but I will make a promise to you. Things will get better."

Part of Angela wanted to scoff at the man's words, but part of her would rather believe the fairy tale he was telling her. There was something in his voice that made him different than the countless men and women who lied to her. The politicians and generals who told the world how the Omnics would fall, or how key to victory had been found... Yet this man could say the same, and there was just something inherently different in it.

Perhaps it was simply how earnest he was. Angela could hear the fear and doubt in the voices of others who spoke, but in this Crusader's voice, she heard something else entirely. Belief, hope, courage, whatever name she gave it, this man had it. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep," she sighed, crossing her arms.

"A knight always keeps his promises, fair maiden!" He knocked his knuckles against his metal chest once more. "I promise you."

Angela did not give any kind of response. She just took a deep breath, before turning her head to find a forklift being driven towards them. "Ah. There it is."

"Then I suppose I should take my leave. No time to dilly-dally, as they say!" The Crusader rose up, and lifted his helmet over his head. "Have a good day, miss. I hope to see you again soon." Angela just nodded her head in response, waving the knight farewell as he masked his face once more. He began to walk, leaving her to help the soldiers move the supplies.

The strange Crusader plagued her thoughts for only a few moments, before she returned once more to her work, drowning herself in it as his promise faded away into forgotten memories.

 **END**


	3. Six Digit Code

**Six Digit Code**

Seeing Angela again was a surreal experience for Reinhardt Wilhelm.

She stood alone, under the night when he found her, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Should he invite her back inside? Should he have left her alone? Should he have asked what was wrong? In the end, he decided to join her, and now the two walked under the starry night sky together. They walked through the base, breathing in the nostalgia and memories.

They walked side by side, staring at the buildings that they used to call home. Neither spoke as they reminisced. Reinhardt could still see himself tanning under the afternoon sun. He remembered how often he laid outside in nothing more than swim trunks and basked in the warm rays. Several times he had invited his friends. The first, and only, time Torbjörn had joined Reinhardt, the two discovered that Torbjörn did not tan well. He merely burned.

A smile pulled on the corners of his lips as he took a sip of his drink. He could feel the warm nectar cascade down his throat, soothing his entire body. He sighed quietly as he continued to walk down memory lane with Angela.

 _Did I ever invite Angela to tan with me? I must have!_ He couldn't imagine himself not inviting one of his closest friends to relax with him. He had even invited Reyes to join him on occasion. Invitations that were never answered, mind you, but that is another story.

He combed through his memories for a moment, before his eyes widened and his cheeks turned scorching hot. He remembered now. He remembered preparing a wonderful lunch for the two of them, and waiting for her on a grassy hill. Reinhardt had always seen Angela as a faithful companion, and a true friend. His offer to tan with her was one simply out of respect and a desire to spend time with her. He had simply wanted to get to know her...

Reinhardt Wilhelm had no perverse motive, not an inkling of something darker in his heart, but when he had seen Angela walking towards him in her bathing suit, well... He stared.

It was no one's fault, but his own. At first, his eyes had simply lingered on her waist for a second too long. The swimsuit she had wore wasn't provocative in any way. It had been a simple, black one piece made of spandex that covered her body while exposing her arms, legs, and collarbone. It was not meant to invite the stare of some old man, but...

The memories alone were enough to make Reinhardt taste the familiar acidic burn of guilt. He was supposed to be a knight! He was supposed to be a hero! Angela looked up to him, respected him as both her senior officer and friend! How could he have stared at her appearance?! Like a broken dam, now that the memory had been recalled, it continued to remind him of his shame and how he must have offended her.

Reinhardt still remembered how the outfit accented Angela's healthy, nubile body. The young woman was gorgeous, and were a more frivolous or less respectable heart inhabited that body, she very well could have been a model. Her legs were shapely and long, her waist thin and curvaceous, and her hips were so...

The Crusader rubbed his hand against his face, cursing his perverted mind. He was feeling ill all of a sudden...

"Is something wrong, Reinhardt?" asked Angela. It was typical of her, really. She always had it in her to care for others, even when something was eating away at herself.

"Ah, yes, I'm fine," he promised, smiling at her.

"Are you sure? Your face is red." She lifted a hand to touch his cheek, but his own caught hers before it could reach.

He took a moment to feel her hand, and he was reminded of how different the two were. The hand he held was that of a healer. A doctor. Soft, lithe, and small. In contrast, his own hand was coarse. Rough at the tips from fighting. Only looking worse with age, but at least they got the job done. The difference only served to remind him how unalike the two were...

And how lucky they were to become friends.

"I am fine, Angela. I promise." He gave her a gentle grin as he released her.

"Very well," she replied, nodding her head. "Invincible, aren't you?" she chuckled.

"Not invincible. Simply... semivincible," he joked. She smiled at his remark, and the two continued their walk.

"So what have you been up to since...?" Neither knew how to put it. Since their family was torn apart? Since they had fought? Since they were no longer needed? Every question Reinhardt came up only served to sting at his own heart. "Since we last saw one another?"

"Hm. Watching the world turn, I suppose." His head bobbed slightly as he nodded. "Watching it change. I cannot say I like where it is going, but that's why we're here, aren't we?" He smiled at her, and she returned the gesture, but he couldn't help but notice how the smile didn't reach her eyes. "I have missed you, Angela. It truly is good to see you again."

"Thank you, Reinhardt. I've missed you too." The smile on her face was more earnest this time. It only shined with a brighter radiance as she chuckled. "So, you haven't been doing much since we last spoke?"

"Well-"

"Because I have heard several rumors of a knight traveling across Europe, helping the innocent, and saving lives." The smirk on her lips told him that she knew about his little crusading with Brigitte.

"Ah. I can explain, you see-"

"Reinhardt, Don't you remember the Petras Act? You could be arrested! And what about Brigitte?" sighed Angela. Her anger did not reach her voice. She sounded more frustrated than anything else. Perhaps even jealous? "What would happen to her if you were thrown in jail? What if she followed you there?"

"Brigitte understands the danger." Neither of them seemed satisfied with that answer. "And the Petras Act outlaws Overwatch activity, not the actions of a senile old man." He sighed, his fingers twitching. Memories of endangered towns, cruel villains, and wild adventures... He was proud of what he did, but the reminder that he shouldn't have done it in the first place left him sickened. "Helping others shouldn't be a crime, Angela."

"I know, Reinhardt, and I agree... But the world doesn't."

The two were quiet, and Reinhardt wondered what else could be said. The world thought of them as criminals. For Reinhardt Wilhelm, the thought was little more than a pebble in his boot. The world could label him a fugitive, and nothing would change. He would always strive to help others. But Angela? She didn't deserve to be reviled and mocked by the public...

"I'm sorry." He wasn't sure what for.

"It's alright," she uttered back. Neither could look at one another.

"I remember this place being bigger." She lifted her head to look at him, and he motioned his head to what was in front of them. She turned her eyes, and there she saw the entrance to living quarters of Watchpoint: Gibraltar. "I remember spending so many nights here. Heh. Winston has kept fine care of it... Do you want to look inside?" he asked, glancing to the blond woman.

It was an obvious attempt to change the subject. Reinhardt smiled at her as he motioned inside, and Angela allowed her own lips to curve. He knew she saw right through him, but she still accepted the idea.

"Lead the way."

The two walked in together. Side by side, walked up the stairs inside. The empty building was in a surprisingly pristine condition. There was little to no dust to be found as small robots glided over the floor, cleaning what little dirt there was inside. Moonlight spilled in from the windows, giving them both just enough to avoid tripping on anything. The two walked up the stairs and when they had reached the second story, Reinhardt's hand traced the walls for the light switch. With a flick of his finger, the lights came on.

They walked into an empty hallway with rows of doors on each side of them. In a way, the living quarters were like a lavish hotel for any agents that were residing at Watchpoint: Gibraltar for over a week. The metal doors were sealed, but Reinhardt could still see his friends walking through them, greeting him as he and Angela explored the empty hall.

"Ah, remember the nights we spent here? There is McCree's room! And Tracer's! And-"

"Here is mine." Both of their eyes fell on the door, and Angela wore a longing smile on her face as she stared at the lock.

Every door in the living quarters could be locked with the keypad located on either side of the door. The agent would enter a six digit code to lock or unlock the door, giving any agent privacy when needed. Reinhardt approached the door by Angela's side.

"Do you remember the code?" he asked, glancing at the keypad.

"Winston probably changed it while I was gone. Not that it matters. I already took most of my things when I was asked to leave. What I couldn't take was thrown... away." Angela's eyes flinched at the memory and Reinhardt scowled at the thought of his friend being hurt.

"Perhaps not." He used his free hand to press down on a series of buttons, scowling when it beeped loudly in disagreement. "Hrm."

"What did you try?"

"Your birthday."

She scoffed at the attempt, grinning at him. "Nice try, but I'm afraid not."

"Hm." Reinhardt entered another password, only to frown as it failed yet again.

"Your birthday? Really?" she giggled.

"It was worth a try!"

Angela shook her head side to side with playful bemusement, before she gently pushed the Crusader aside. He stepped aside and watched as she entered a code into the keypad. "There-"

The keypad beeped again.

"Do you think Winston did change it?" Reinhardt wondered, glancing at the ceiling for a camera. Perhaps they could ask Winston to let them in for old times' sake?

"No, hold on, I just remembered it incorrectly. Let me try again." The keypad beeped angrily at them. "No, that isn't right..." It beeped once more, practically hissing at them. "Drat... Maybe...?" Reinhardt chuckled at the sight of his friend, watching her tap away at the small device in growing frustration.

"Finally, a challenge worthy of our skill! Let me try!" He attempted once more, causing the machine to bellow at them. "You know, I could use my hammer."

"You are not hammering down my door!" And despite what they had talked about earlier, despite what gnawed away at both Reinhardt and his close friend, she smiled. She laughed, and Reinhardt Wilhelm found he rather enjoyed the sound."

 **END**

Bittersweet is the theme with this chapter. Remembering the good and embarrassing times, as well as feeling guilt for all the bad times. Not to mention taking it easy when you can in the present day...

Didn't have a chance to proofread this chapter, just so you know. Hopefully I can do so later.

Thanks for reading, and have a good day!

Next chapter: Years ago, Reinhardt invited a certain prodigy doctor to join Overwatch...


	4. Five Humans

**Five Humans**

Reinhardt, on paper, was a mere lieutenant in the Overwatch agency. The truth was that many saw him second only to Jack Morrison. It wasn't a matter of rank or title, but respect. Reinhardt was seen as the heart of Overwatch, a living embodiment of what the organization was supposed to be. Inspiring, kind, wise, and strong. Reinhardt was well aware of the stories the younger agents and cadets would exchange about the senior officer, and he would often find those younger or less experienced than him come to him for advice, but he did not see what they did.

He was just a man, one who wanted to see good being done because good was good.

That did not mean he was above using his influence. If he saw one of his fellow agents suggest something he saw as unjust, or something that betrayed their moral goal, he would put a stop to it with a firm hand and steady voice. It also meant he would use his own influence to make suggestions on how to improve the organization.

"Angela Ziegler? The bleeding heart? You have got to be kidding me."

"Not everything is about fire power, Gabriel," Reinhardt reminded. "Doctor Ziegler is an intelligent woman, one who has made amazing breakthroughs in the field of medicine and nanobiology. She would be an amazing help to Overwatch's cause."

"I've heard of her," Torbjörn commented. "She is one of the finest minds I've ever seen, but.. Ah.." Reinhardt raised his brow, staring at his stoutly friend in confusion. "I've read reports of her opening her doors for Omnics." The larger, German man could see Torbjörn cybernetic hand twitch. The placed his undamaged hand onto it, squeezing the metal. "Perhaps Gabriel has a point. We're a military organization. While I respect her work and intellect, I don't see how much help should be for us on the battlefield. Our doctors do fine enough work as is."

Reinhardt fought back a sigh. Torbjörn was a good man, and a close friend to the lieutenant, but the war had clearly left scars on all of them. Torbjörn's were both physical and mental, leaving him with a strong distrust for the mechanical people. He did not blame his friend. He understood why he, and many others, still feared the Omnics, but Overwatch had to be the first to change that. While making an Omnic a member of the organization was a long way from happening, he could continue to add supporters to their group, slowly teach the younger cadets forgiveness and compassion.

That path began with individuals like Angela Ziegler. "Dr. Ziegler is much more than a mere doctor, my vertically challenged friend." Reinhardt smiled, hoping to add a bit of levity to the moment. Torbjörn scoffed, but at least the teasing was able to wipe the scowl from his face and relaxed his twitching fingers. "She is a healer, something our world needs more of."

Despite his status as Overwatch's 'heart,' Reinhardt never felt comfortable being on a stage and talking to others. He preferred being out on the field, fighting, screaming, and defending others! Despite that, he knew the role he played demanded more than bulging muscles and rocket-powered hammers.

"The war is over. Change is required for not just our organization, but the people living in it. We live in a new world, one ravaged by war, but with the potential to be more." Reinhardt glanced at Ana and Jack, both of his closest friends, both silent since he suggested they invite Dr. Ziegler to join Overwatch. Their faces were like stone, but he knew that they needed to be as objective as possible. Winning their approval was just another challenge for the muscular Crusader, one he rose to meet with confidence.

"Jack Morrison became the leader of Overwatch because we needed someone else. Gabriel led our team well during the war, but in this time of peacekeeping and repair, we needed you. This is a new world we live in, and people like Dr. Ziegler are who we need most of. People who lived during the war, saw its horrors, and decide to help fix the world. Her work is revolutionary, and with our resources, Overwatch will be at the cutting edge of both offensive weaponry-" He made a motion to Torbjörn. "-and medical technology. We aren't just soldiers now, Commander Morrison. We're peacekeepers in a scared, broken world, and individuals like Dr. Ziegler can help us."

"I vote in favor of inviting the good doctor to join us," Ana declared, lifting her hand up. "Stirring speech, Reinhardt." She smiled, letting her stoic expression crack to reveal the motherly soul beneath.

"It's clear you're very passionate about this, Lieutenant Wilhelm," Jack commented, the corner of his lip rising slightly.

"He was the same way about inviting that geologist over," Reyes commented. "Either he really believes what he says, or he just has a thing for girls smarter than him," chuckled Reyes.

"Mei-Ling Zhou is a climatologist," corrected Reinhardt. "And I do believe what in what I say," he added, frowning. _To even consider I have some ulterior motive... Bah!_

"Let's make this official," Morrison commanded. "All those for Dr. Ziegler being offered a place here?"

"Aye." Reinhardt lifted up his hand without hesitation.

"Aye." Ana followed suit, with a small smile on her face.

"Aye." The Commander of Overwatch lifted up his own hand. "Those against?" Gabriel leaned back in his seat and briefly lifted his hand up, halfhearted and suddenly apathetic of the situation. Perhaps he simply recognized there was no point in arguing.

The four turned their heads to Torbjörn, who failed to meet their gaze. His eyes were on his robotic hand, watching it twist and turn in silence. "Abstain," he muttered.

"Then that's that. I'll contact Director Petras and Secretary Adawe about this. If everything checks out, we'll send someone to recruit Dr. Ziegler. Is there anything else we need to discuss?" He was met with silence. "Then you're all dismissed."

Gabriel was the first to leave the room, standing up and walking out without another word. Torbjörn was quick to follow. Reinhardt offered a thankful smile to his friend, and while the blond engineer did not return the gesture, he nodded his head in acknowledgement. Jack Morrison was the next to leave, quietly looking through Overwatch's files on Dr. Ziegler.

That left Ana and Reinhardt alone in the conference room.

"You're certainly on a roll, Reinhardt," Ana commented, leaning forward as she looked at her old friend.

Reinhardt smiled back at her. Ana and Torbjörn were his closest friends within the organization, but they were very different friends. With Torbjörn, the two would drink and trade insults, laughing at the past, and goading one another to do some stupid and brave. With Ana, the bond was far less juvenile. With Ana, he did not have to be so boyish. He would never think to insult her, nor would he ever challenge her. It was a simple friendship, one that did not always need words.

"Is it safe to say you will be visiting this doctor soon?" she inquired.

"I had a plane scheduled for tonight. Public. No need to waste Overwatch's resources. I have already asked for the time off."

"You certainly have things planned." Ana knew about Reinhardt's only goal was to nurture Overwatch from a military unit, to a peacekeeping agency. She trusted that he knew what he was doing, and that if he needed help, he would come to her. That was the beauty of their friendship. The ease. It was simple, when times were complex and changing. "Well, have a good time in Switzerland, Reinhardt."

The officer tipped her hat to her colleague, before walking out the doors, leaving him alone at the table. The Crusader smiled as she left, knowing that was truly blessed.

* * *

Switzerland was a beautiful country before the war. It was filled with oceans of emerald grass, cities with history and culture, art, music, and food... It was an amazing place, but no matter how hard it tried to hide them, it had scars. Reinhardt saw that everywhere he went.

Cities laid to waste, scorched earth, weak, thin trees struggling to grow again. There were entire sections of the country made uninhabitable because of what the Omnics had done. The damage was not all physical though. It was as clear as the graffiti on the walls. Omnics and humans were segregated, with tension rising every day.

 _This world needs healers._ He sighed at the thought. He hoped he could convince the woman to listen to him, but doubt burned at his mind. Yes, he was an influential figure within Overwatch, but that did not change the fact that he was only a man. He made mistakes, and he knew that Dr. Ziegler may not appreciated his sudden appearance at first.

"Who are you? Who let you in here?" a voice asked.

 _Perhaps I should have made an appointment._

He could hardly fault her for being surprised. Reinhardt stood in her office, standing by her window. He had been waiting for her for only a few minutes, yet the wait had felt much longer.

Reinhardt put on his best smile and turned to the woman. Dr. Ziegler was garbed in a grey sweater, with a sapphire-colored scarf around her neck. Long, black pants stretched down to white shoes, giving her an appearance of practicality and style. Her golden locks were tied into a bun, as she stared at Reinhardt with confusion and barely-hidden annoyance.

Reinhardt, in comparison, was dressed in simple clothing, tailor-made to fit his 'unique' physique. It was a simple, white shirt and jeans, with a jacket over his body to help with the cold. His face, usually covered in a helmet, was completely visible to the young woman. She did not seem to recognize him at first, either because she did not watch much of the news, or because his helmet was becoming more recognizable than his own face.

"Greetings, Dr. Ziegler. My name is Lieutenant Reinhardt Wilhelm. I'm-"

It seems even Dr. Ziegler knew his name, because he caught her eyes widening slightly. "You're from Overwatch..." The words were not a question, before a realization. He noticed her body stiffen slightly and her stance become more rigid. "May I ask what you are doing here?"

"I've come to speak to you regarding an open position at Overwatch."

"You want me to join Overwatch?" A sunlight-colored brow rose up as she walked into her office. Her tone was cold, and her brow wrinkled slightly at the offer. "I'm sorry, but I have no intention of joining any army."

"I-"

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to attend to." She walked past him without another word, tossing her scarf onto her chair, and sitting down at her desk.

Reinhardt wasn't sure how he wanted to act. Rather than be offended, though, he felt mildly amused, not to mention impressed, by the doctor's cold response. He smiled and turned to face her once more. "May I ask why the cold reception?" There was no malice in his voice. Only curiosity, with a hint of bemusement.

The blond woman was already looking through her computer, eyes scanning the information like a machine. She refused to look at the older man, keeping her eyes on the screen instead. "I respect Overwatch's intentions, but I have no desire to join them. It is as simple as that."

Reinhardt nodded his head, walking forward to a nearby seat in front of her desk. "May I sit here?"

"Actually, I would prefer you didn't..." It was clear the young doctor was trying not to come off as too rude, despite clearly not wanting him in the office. Normally, Reinhardt would obey a kind woman's wishes, but today required a hint of stubbornness.

"Then I shall stand." He beamed at her, and he could see her eyes do the slightest roll he had ever witnessed. "Overwatch has the most cutting edge technology, not to mention a wealth of resources, and the support and respect of several different nations, Dr. Ziegler. Imagine the good you can do there."

"And imagine the good Overwatch could do with me." Angela spat out the words, the slightest hint of venom of them, before she stood up. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but I am very busy today. I have to go."

"Then I shall follow!" Reinhardt stood up with her and walked towards the door. He could hear her quietly groan in frustration, before he politely opened the door for her. "Ladies first."

"Thank you," she muttered, walking past him and out the door. She began to walk through the slightly busy halls of the Swiss hospital. Reinhardt followed her.

"Your work is impressive. The good you have done is staggering. I was attempting to understand it, but I found the work to be a bit... uh... above me." Reinhardt chuckled as he followed after the smaller woman. "Could you help me understand how you were able to apply your nanobiology technology into a concentrated beam? And is there a way to further the beam's range, perhaps disperse it into a cloud to heal multiple people at once?"

"Well, it's a simple application of programming. I point my staff, and lock onto an injured body, and the 'healing stream' repairs their wounds. As for healing multiple beings at once, of course, I've considered it, but I lack proper power to..." She stopped, turning to face him with her arms crossed. "You've studied my work."

"I tried to study it. As I said, it was slightly above me," he chuckled.

She glanced into his eyes, and he saw the way her azure gems seemed to sparkle in the setting sun. She was trying to decipher him, it seemed, yet he only smiled in return. He was a simple man with simple goals. If she sought an ulterior motive or a dagger hidden in his cloak, she would be disappointed.

"Look, Lieutenant Wilhelm, I appreciate you trying to understand my work, but the simple fact is, I have no intention of allowing Overwatch to weaponize my work. My creations are meant to help and heal, nothing more. Nothing less. I won't let them be turned into weapons."

"Then they won't be. You have my solemn vow. I swear, as long as I draw breath, your work will not be weaponized."

Angela blinked at the statement, clearly taken back. "You cannot promise that."

"I can, and I have." Reinhardt nodded his head, before motioning out a nearby window. "A knight's oath is absolute. Once a promise is made, well, it cannot be unmade."

"You are a strange, strange man, and while I would love to spend my day talking to you, I have work to do today."

"Look out that window." Reinhardt motioned his head to it again.

"What?"

"Please, doctor, look out the window?" Dr. Ziegler sighed, before turning her gaze outside.

She and Reinhardt stared out the window, staring out into the city surrounding them. The sun was setting on the beautiful city, rays of orange and amber reflecting off of buildings of stone and glass. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of people were belong them, walking, driving, running, or simply staring out into the setting sun. What was most eye-catching though was the gorgeous river that entered the city. It the most awe-inspiring blue, like a river of sapphires, and it caught the sunlight so perfectly. Human, Omnic, so many different people stopped to gaze into the spectacular sight. For a moment, Reinhardt and Angela were lost in the sight...

He turned his head to her while she stared out the window and he spoke quietly. "This city has 180,000 citizens. Of that, 30,000 are Omnics. That's five humans for every single Omnic. Do you know what many of those people, Omnic or human, have in common?" He did not give her the time to answer. "You helped them. You healed them, you healed someone they cared about, and because of you, they helped rebuild this city... I read your file, Dr. Ziegler. I know you've been opening your clinic's door to anyone. You charge nothing. You help everyone who comes to you. Overwatch needs someone like you, doctor. Someone without prejudice, with intellect curbed by compassion, and ambition carried with skill."

"With Overwatch's resources at your disposal, you could help millions, perhaps even billions of people. You could become a symbol of equality, a symbol of rebuilding, of-"

"I have no desire to be a symbol of anything. I just want to help people," she sighed, turning her head to face him. Her cold exterior had melted away, and Reinhardt saw depressed, lonely doctor staring at him. "I respect you, Lieutenant. You saved lives. But Overwatch is being given more and more power, and who is there to make sure they don't abuse it? I've seen what people with good intentions, but poor leadership can do. Your heart might be in the right place, but what if Overwatch does more harm than good?" She let out a sigh, yet it sounded almost mocking. "I believe that people are good, Lieutenant. I believe that deep down, everyone wants to do the right thing. But who is the judge of what that is?"

"We are." Reinhardt's smile grew, yet there was a glimmer of melancholy in his eye. He saw so many things in the woman in front of him. A beautiful young woman, yes, but she was so much more. She was a brilliant doctor, a prodigy of her generation, a living legend! She was kind and compassionate, she was strong and spirited, she was exactly what Overwatch needed. "Everything you have said has only made me want you more..."

"..." Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. She took a step back, glancing behind her to find witnesses. Reinhardt could see her mind race as both of their cheeks burned crimson.

"Want you to join Overwatch! To join! I-I am so sorry, I just... T-terrible phrasing on my part!" He slammed his hand against his face, groaning in exasperation. "Ah, idiot! I am so sorry, that was terrible of me! I-I am just... I am so sorry!"

"It's fine. It's fine," she muttered, massaging the nose of her bridge as the older man tried to control his blushing cheeks.

"What I mean is Overwatch needs people like you more than ever. Many children worship Overwatch, many people feel they owe their lives to us. So many cadets are clamoring to join our cause and fight the good fight. Their admiration is appreciated, but it comes at a price. Overwatch is made of people, Dr. Ziegler, and people are not perfect. I know this," he sighed. For a moment, his smile vanished.

"That's why you are such a perfect fit for Overwatch, doctor. It isn't just your mind, or your skills. It is your heart. Your conscious." He tapped his own head, beaming once more. "You will help us keep our head on straight! I have always believed in Overwatch. What it stands for, what it means to the people, but I have never held back my tongue when I feel my colleagues have made a mistake. Nor should you. When you are part of Overwatch-"

"If," she corrected, crossing her arms and glaring at the giant of a man.

"If." He nodded his head, holding his hands up in a sign of compliance. "If you join, I would never want you to hold back your tongue. I would never want you to simply stand aside, or accept what you are told. Question authority, seek the truth, understand what is happening... You can help keep Overwatch true to its roots. That is the real reason I want you to join."

Dr. Ziegler was clearly perplexed by the older man. She opened her mouth, before closing it shut. Reinhardt grinned in response. Silence was a nice step. Silence meant she was considering what he was saying. Better than rejecting him outright.

"In a few days, someone will come to offer you an invitation to join Overwatch. Feel free to play hard to get," he chuckled. "I only came to tell you why I wanted you to join."

"You specifically?" she inquired, clearly surprised by the notion. He nodded his head, proudly, placing his hands behind his back. "Why?"

"Because you deserve to know the truth. When I heard of you, I had a feeling." He waved a finger in the air playfully. "I had a feeling that you were 'the one.' Er... That you were 'a' one. That you could do a lot of good with Overwatch at your back, and Overwatch could do even more good with you at its heart."

Reinhardt had said all that he had wanted to say. He smiled at her once more, before offering his hand to her. She glanced down at it, before looking up at him. He smiled, and while she did not smile back, she placed her hand in his hand squeezed his as firmly as she could. His hand was bigger than hers, stronger, yet he was pleasantly surprised at the strength of her grip.

"Think about it, Dr. Zie-"

"You can call me Angela, Lieutenant," she interrupted. She finally smiled back. It was small, but it was enough for the veteran.

"Very well. Then you can call me Reinhardt. Angela, I hope to hear from you soon, either to hear you are joining Overwatch, or so that you can explain how your invention works. Both sound like an enjoyable conversation." He chuckled at his little joke. "Goodbye, Angela."

"Goodbye... Reinhardt." Her hand fell from his, and he noticed something about Angela. Her eyes were very much like the river. They were blue, a spectacular, almost otherworldly shade of blue, like sapphires, and the way they caught the sun was simply breathtaking.

Reinhardt did not give the realization another thought as he turned and began to walk away. He was proud of himself. Whether or not Doctor Angela Ziegler joined Overwatch, he hoped his words resonated in her and helped her find happiness. A woman that amazing, that 'good,' only deserved the best.

 **END**

Cutting it damn close with this update. Still Thursday here so, phew...

Also, wanna know something that bothers me? There is almost no info on who Liao is. So eff it, Liao is dead in this story's continuity. What do you want from me? I don't want to just make up stuff about a founder of Overwatch. What am I? writer? Oh... Wait...

Another chapter in the past! I love how Reinhardt was both Overwatch's biggest supporter, and the group's harshest critic, and I like to think he knew that sometimes the organization needed to be criticized. I also like the idea of him being very in support of adding more than just soldiers to their ranks, and fighting more than just 'the bad guys.' He wanted Overwatch to be about exploration, knowledge, equality, and, of course, healing.

See ya next week! This chapter did not have a chance to get proofread, so there are probably errors. I'll fix them later.


	5. Seven Bruises

**Seven Bruises**

"Aha. Got it!"

The keypad beeped, and the door slid open for the two.

"Excellent work, Angela!"

"Thank you, Reinhardt." The young woman smiled at the older man, a hint of scarlet painted onto her cheeks. She was thankful he did not ask her what the passcode was. After all, it'd be rather embarrassing to admit it was the date the two met one another and he offered her a place at Overwatch.

She remembered it clearly now. Reinhardt had walked her to her this very room on her first day as the head of Medical Research at Overwatch. He welcomed her with open arms, telling her she could decorate the room however she saw fit, and that he would he stationed just a floor above her if she ever needed anything.

Angela found the corners of her lips rising at the memories. Reinhardt was a gentleman, nothing short of a true knight to her. He had always been a loyal friend and comrade to her. She glanced at his smiling face, and for a moment, time seemed to reverse. He was a commanding officer, she was a doctor, and they were both part of an organization bent on world peace.

No, they were more than just colleagues, they were friends. Reinhardt would introduce her, offer advise, even vouch for her. The transition between a doctor in Switzerland and the Head of Medical Research was jarring, and she had even been met with resistance, but Reinhardt had always been present as her friend and confidante.

She smiled at him as he motioned for her to step inside her old room. "Ladies first."

Angela placed a hand on her chest, right over her heart and jokingly gasped. "Such a gentleman. And they say chivalry is dead." The two chuckled as they entered the room. Angela flicked the light switch by the door, and reality crashed down on them.

Overwatch was gone. This wasn't her room any longer. The walls that had once been decorated with pictures of Switzerland and her diplomas were gone, torn off years ago. The desk that had sat in the corner was gone, along with the pictures of her family when she was a child. She placed a hand against the smooth, bare walls of the room.

 _There used to be a picture here..._ It was Winston's graduation, she remembered. She, Reinhardt, and Tracer had all attended. They had been so proud of the scientist. It had been a good day, she remembered. It was days like that, that she missed most.

The room was barren, a crude reminder of what Angela had lost when Overwatch was disbanded.

"Angela?" Reinhardt's voice broke her from her trance, and she glanced at him. He must have seen the sadness in her eyes, because his hands came forward to place a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

She smiled at him, trying to brush away the weight of loss from her mind. "For what, Reinhardt? You didn't do this..."

"I insisted on us coming here. I just-"

"There are a lot of happy memories here," she finished. "I remember them as well. How McCree would cook breakfast..."

"How Tracer would leave her little jokes around," chuckled the knight.

"How Reyes scared you every Halloween."

Reinhardt's grin fell, and a firm scowl replaced it. He glared at Angela, who could only laugh at the memories. "R-Remember when Reyes gave you that jar to open for him? Right at midnight. You opened it, and the toy snake inside scared you?"

"It popped out at me!" Reinhardt argued. "Like a mad viper, springing out of its cave! It lunged at me! You were lucky I threw it out the window! It could have bitten you! I saved your life, really." The older man crossed his arms and turned his body, as if he was pouting at the embarrassing memories. The idea of the large, burly warrior pouting just caused Angela's giggles to continue, until she was snorting at the memories. Reinhardt dropped his mask and he chuckled with her, nodding his head.

"We have had many, many good memories, Angela. Do you remember your first mission?"

Angela's laughter ceased, and her body stiffened. "That hardly seems like a good memory, Reinhardt."

"I disagree. I remember you saving my life, proving to others that you deserved to be a part of Overwatch, and being nothing short of a true hero. You were magnificent!" he complimented, lifting a hand to the air.

"You and I remember that mission very differently. I remember both of us nearly dying, and you nursing me back to help. I remember waking up with seven bruises all over my body," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Not to mention the scars that mission left behind."

"Ah, tomato, potato," Reinhardt laughed. "What matters is that you and I are still alive and kicking! And we will be tomorrow, as well. It'll be just like old times, Angela," he promised.

"Reinhardt..." Angela had to fight a sigh spilling from her lips. "Do you remember the last time we spoke? Years ago?"

Reinhardt's smile vanished, and he stared at the young woman. "I do... But times have changed, Angela. Surely you can see that the world needs Overwatch!"

"The world needs something, but I don't know if a militia excreting their authority through force is the key. No, I told you my feelings on Overwatch returning, Reinhardt. I don't know if that's what the world needs right now."

"But you came! You received the recall signal, just like everyone else, and you came here! Angela, I know you want to help others just as much as I do! Overwatch can do that!"

It was the spike the split the two apart. They were colleagues, friends, but this was something they couldn't see eye to eye on. Angela avoided Reinhardt's stare as she glared at the ground. For him, he saw a chance to return to the past, to relive his days of triumph and to save the world. He never saw what Angela did. He was an outsider when Overwatch crumbled, while she sat in the heart of it, watching the organization decay from the inside.

"You always saw Overwatch at its best, Reinhardt, but I saw it at its worst." The memories made her skin crawl, like a cool, icy breeze was beating down on her. "Perhaps coming here was a mistake..."

 **END**

Busy, so short, not-so-good chapter. I did my best with what time I had.

Hope you have a good day, bye!


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